Untitle:Ch. 1, What if...
by Altra
Summary: What if Voldemort died? What if Lily and James defeated him? What if all Death Eaters were sent to Azkaban? What if children of Death Eaters were forced to live in a society which despised their very being? *New Chaper 5*
1. Untitled Chapter 1: What if...

Untitled Ch. 1: What if...  
  
  
"Lily, take Harry and run!" A man with wild black hair stared in horror at the cloacked figure before him.  
  
"No James! We have to fight together," a woman with fiery red hair yelled back, tears gathering in her eyes.  
  
"Lily go! I'll take care of this! Just take Harry and run!" James screamed again. The cloaked figure cackled, his eyes dancing with amusement at the tears and pain.  
  
"Only delaying the inevitable for your son and wife. How very... touchingly brave and yet... stupid."  
  
"Your life ends here, Voldemort!" James said. "Lily leave now!"  
  
"No! We are strong together, remember what Sybil said!" Staring at his wife, James nodded. Pointing his wand at Voldemort, he yelled out,  
  
"Stupefy!" Jumping to the side, Voldemort dodged the spell.  
  
"Crucio!" Keeling over, James whimpered in pain. Lily finished waving her wand in a series of complex motions.  
  
"Cilenga!" A glowing white form slipped from the end of her wand, encompassing Voldemort. Losing his concentration, the spell over James broke. Crying out in pain, Voldemort lashed out against the glowing white woman, wings adorning her.  
  
"Stupefy!" James cried out. Voldemort fell to the ground, unmoving. The white form hung over his body, never taking her eyes from him. Hugging each other and Harry, the Potters barely took notice of the Ministry Aurors swarming around Voldemort. A dementor sifted out of the darkness, plucking Voldemort off the ground. Harry wailed as the dementor lowered it's hood and Kissed Voldemort. The earth sighed, the Aurors cheered, the glowing white woman smiled, disappearing in a puff of white smoke.  
  
"He's dead!" A man yelled out. "He-who-must-not-be-named is truly gone!"  
  
***  
  
  
The Potters were widely known and thanked for all they had done. Grateful people sang their graces for all the lives they had surely saved. Death Eaters were captured and sent to Azkaban as soon as they were caught. Giving the caught Death Eaters a drop of a powerful truth potion, to decide just who was a Death Eater.  
  
"Did you see the paper today, James?" Lily asked, dropping the paper on the table before sitting, a cup of coffee in her hand.  
  
"No, but I guess I'm going to."  
  
Five More Death Eaters  
Sentenced to Axkaban  
The verdict in the case of Lucius Malfoy, wife Narcissa, Robert Parkinson and wife Bethany, and Peter Petegrew came down guilty today. Lucius Malfoy, Peter Petegrew, and Bethany Parkinson will receive the Dementor's Kiss later this evening at a public execution. Narcissa Malfoy and Robert Parkinson received five years in Azkaban and must live as muggles for the rest of their days. Lucius Malfoy, once a governor for Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, is responsible for the deaths of ten magical people and 41 muggles. Narcissa was convicted guilty on the killing of one magical person and consorting with You-Know-Who. Bethany Parkinson was charged with six counts murder on magical folk, 24 muggles, and torturing two Aurors. Husband Robert is charged with consorting with the Dark Arts and one case of murder of an Auror. Peter Petegrew guilty of ten muggle deaths, spying, and four counts torture. Bethany leaves behind a son, Andrew (14), and a daughter, Pansy (1). Lucius leaves one son, Draco (1). Petegrew leaves no family.  
  
  
"I never thought Peter would turn on us," James said softly. Lily took his hand, squeezing it gently.  
  
"It'll be all right James. At least they caught that bastard, Malfoy. The blood of all those people on his hands!" Lily felt tears coursing down her cheeks. "My best friend... he killed Rose, with no mercy, no consideration... no heart, that bloody bastard!" she yelled, slamming her fist down upon the table. James slowly wiped the tears from her eyes. A wail from upstairs alerted them to the fact that Harry was awake and quite hungry.  
  
***  
  
  
Mr. Crouch stood on his podium, watching the three Death Eaters, an insane fire burning in him. Lucius Malfoy caught his gaze, sneering evilly. His silver-blonde hair, pointed face and prominent cheekbones combined with his icy blue eyes cut an imposing figure. Though, being six feet tall did add to it. Bethany Parkinson noticed Lucius' interest and turned, smirking at Mr. Crouch. Her brown, waist length hair was pulled into a no- nonsense braid, bony face giving the impression of a skeleton. Peter Petegrew glanced over at the two, startled by their calmness. Craning his neck, Peter's eyes met Crouch's. A look of horror was transfixed onto his features. His frantic eyes begged for forgiveness. The crowd surrounding the area shifted from foot-to-foot, most happy to see Death Eaters brought to justice. The large, gray room had two exits, one across from Mr. Crouch and one behind him. The high ceiling was old, paint peeling from the corners. The clock hanging above him chimed five o'clock.  
  
"Wizards and witches, today, three hate filled Death Eaters shall receive the Dementor's Kiss. Peter Petegrew, step forward," barked Crouch. Peter threw himself upon the ground infront of the podium, feverishly sobbing.  
  
"Please! Let me live! I swear I'll do anything! I swear! God, it was a mistake! He was too powerful! It was do or die, I swear I didn't enjoy it! Honest! I'm not like those two monsters! I don't deserve to die! He-who-must-not-be-named threatened me! I had no choice! Please forgive me! Ple-" A sharp kick in the side from Bethany halted his pleas, ending Crouch's sudden happiness.  
  
"Traitours scum! The Master never liked you! He should have killed you from the start!" Lucius sneered.  
  
"You killed him. Hard to believe that a speck of dust like you destroyed Him," Bethany spat.  
  
"Silence!" Crouch yelled. "Petegrew, say your final good-byes, and be quick about it."  
  
"Nooo! You can't do this! It's cruel! It's unusual! It's against the Constitution!" Peter yelled, please with himself. Laughter rang from the crowd, Petegrew's smile disappearing.   
  
"The Constitution protects muggles in America!" Crouch said, laughter in his voice. Lifting an arm, the guards nodded and opened the doors across from him. A dementor slid towards the screaming Petegrew. The crowd shifted as the dementor passed them. Lowering it's hood, a the brittle gray skin caught every eye in the room. The hollow eye sockets, replaced instead by skin, faced the quivering man. The lipless mouth, flaps of skin over hanging, shuddered as each breath caressed it. Shifting it's tattered robes, a bony hand, flesh turning black, slipping off, pulled Petegrew up to it's mouth. Petegrew screamed, even as the hollow mouth touched his, only to stop, seconds later. Dropping the body, the dementor slid across the room, standing besides the door it entered through. Two guards hauled Petegrew's soulless body off the ground, depositing it beside the podium. Crouch pleasantly noted the grim looks on Lucius and Bethany.  
  
"Malfoy, Parkinson, as you both have children, and your spouses unfit to parent them, they shall be put in the custody of willing parents. Malfoy, step forward and say your good-byes," Crouch said, trying hard to hide the glee he felt. Lucius stood quiet for a few seconds before stepping forward, looking Crouch straight in the eye.  
  
"I feel no remorse. What I did was only try to purge the world of filth and dirt. Mudbloods deserve what they get. Kill them all I say. I only hope my son learns of their evils." Bethany clapped wildly, the rest of the room silent. The dementor ascended again. Lucius pulled away slightly, his most feared moment replaying in his mind. Sensing the resistance, the Dementor quickly lowered it's head. With a snap, Lucius stopped moving. His body was placed besides Petegrew, both staring forward blankly.  
  
"Parkinson, your turn to say goodbye," Crouch said. He was positively cheery, like a child on his first visit to Disneyland. Slowly Bethany stepped forward.  
  
"Well, I have no great speech about how I was wrong and want forgiveness like the great Petegrew," she spat, sarcasm cutting through the air. "I did nothing wrong. Like Lucius, I simply tried to rid the world of the filth destroying our bloodlines and societies. Only fools allow themselves into being diluted that Mudbloods are worthy of marring witches and wizards. Pity upon fools who think differently." Howls of anger and boos rang out from the crowd. The dementor swiftly descend upon Bethany, draining her soul quickly. As the audience filed out, Crouch smiled happily. After the last few stragglers left, followed by the dementor and the guards, Crouch stepped down from the podium. A movement to the right caught his eye. Mad-Eye Moody pulled an invisibility cloak off himself, revealing three people, the older two each holding a bundle. The only woman had waist length silver blonde hair, icy blue eyes, tears softly stabbing red lines along her smooth pale cheeks. The man besides her, ratty brown hair, a wild beard, looked close to tears, yet was holding himself back. The boy, half-hidden behind the man, appeared to be only 13-years-old. His young brown eyes, over-flowing with tears which slid down his blemished skin, lower lip quivering.  
  
"That's right boy," Crouch said darkly. "Your mother paid for her actions. The Dark Arts never pay. Never." The boy glared at him, defiance in his eyes. "Remember this moment all of you. Burn it into your minds. Narcissa, the day your beloved died. Robert, the day the best friend you ever had died. Andrew, your mothers final hour. And as for young Draco and Pansy," Crouch said, a sweet smile flitting over his features, "your earliest memories shall be of pain and rejection." Moody stifled an outrages sound. "Take them back to Azkaban, but leave the children with the secretary in the front office. She knows what to do." Nodding briskly, Moody led the captives and their children out the doors an down the stairwell.  
  
  
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A/N: Hope ya like it, this is my newest series, and I'm on the third chapter, so the others will be up if ya want 'em. Please review! It's good karma ~_-!  
  



	2. Untitled Chapter 2: Rejection; Pain

A/N: words in *asterkics* are thoughts.  
  
  
Untitled Ch:2 Pain;Rejection  
  
  
  
  
  
Rejection  
  
  
  
Andrew Parkinson looked dejectadly out the grimy window. The London Magical Orphanage had been his home for the past six months. Slowly, he leaned agains the wall, it's peeling paint a reminder of just where he was. **My sister is in daycare. My father is in Azkaban**  
  
**My mother is as good as dead.**  
  
**And I, Andrew Parkinson, am waiting to be adopted.** His first month was turbulent, to say the least. Many of the children in the orphange had lost their parents to Death Eaters. Being the son of a Death Eater really didn't make him popular. Absent-mindedly, he fingered his jaw, remembering the pain inflicted when a boy jumped him, as if killing Andrew would bring his parents back. His sister and Draco were handled like bombs, the nurses obviously afraid that if they harmed them, the children would spring to life and kill them. None of the other children would go near Andrew and the nurses had seperated Draco and Pansy from the other babies. Anger flared up in him, only to be bottled away. **Quarantine. Place me in an orphange, ban me from finishing Hogwarts. from taking the magic course offered here. Why didn't that bastard just feed me to the Dementor too? I might as well be a muggle!** Andrew slammed his fist against the wall, paint chips fluttered to the ground. Taking quick steps out of the common room, he walked through cliques, games, and conversations. People jumped aside as he passed and made his way to the nursery. He led himself to the corner where Draco and Pansy were usually seated. Draco spotted him first, pointing and squeaking. Pansy turned, a smile spreading across her face. Unable to help himself he smiled back. He sat himself down across from them.  
  
"A'dew!" Draco said, proud of his accomplishment in learning Andrew's name. Pulling himself up using the boxes, Draco slowly made his way towards Andrew. Pansy laughed and pulled herself up using the same clump of boxes, and walked by herself over to him, before collapsing into his open arms.   
  
"Hey you two, whats up?" Andrew smiled, allowing laughter into his voice.  
"And here are the babes. As you can see they are a very social bunch and-" The Mistress of the orphanage saw Andrew, Pansy and Draco. The couple behind her appeared to be slightly confused. The woman had short black hair as did the man. The woman was around five and a half feet tall, while the man was only a few inches taller. "Well I believe that you wished to adopt a teenager. Follow me, I'll show them to you," the mistress said, herding the couple away from them. Andrew let out a sigh, causing Draco to sneeze.  
  
"Sorry little dude," he said, happy with his American slang. For some reason or another, it seemed to terrify the other children. "Looks like Mistress doesn't consider us worth while kids."  
  
"No tew! Na' say Mis'ess 'oves us all!" Pansy exclaimed (translation: No true! Nana says Mistress loves us all) tumbling over her words.  
  
"Mistress loves the other kids. But who needs her? Us three can take on the world together. Well, when you two get older," said Andrew. "Who's Na' Pans?"  
  
"Na' is 'ady wi'h g'ay 'air," she said (translation: Nana is lady with gray hair), piling blocks upin each other. Draco pointed at a block. The blocked glowed a light silver, leviatating a foot above the ground. Andrew smiled happily.  
  
"Good job, Draco. But remember, don't do that around anyone else, okay?" Draco smiled, basking in Andrew's praise. Pansy giggle and pointed at the block Draco had just set down. It glowed a faint pink before it rose a foo from the ground. "Way to go Pans. But you remeber too, don't let anyone else see you do that, okay? When the nurses ask you if you've done any magic say no. Okay? Look, promise me that you will say no if the nurses ask if you've done any magic," Andrew said, fear in his eyes.  
  
"P'omise," Draco said.  
  
"P'omise," Pansy replied, holding up her pinky. Andrew laughed. The three of them built many towers, and each time either Draco or Pansy would knock it over and gasp. A shadow fell over the three. Looking up, Andrew saw the Mistress standing above him, lips pursed, hands on her hips.  
  
"Come with me, Andrew," she said. Spinning on her heel, she turned and walked away. Haistily saying good-bye to Draco and Pansy, he hurried after her.  
  
"What's going on ma'am? I haven't done anything."  
  
"Someone wishes to see you," was her clipped reply. She led him to her office. Waiting inside was the couple he had seen earlier. The couple rose, the man extending his hand to Andrew, who shook it. Mistress indicated Andrew to the vacant seat and promptly left.  
"My name is John Smith, and this is my wife Nancy. We would like to adopt you," Mr. Smith said.  
  
"Why?" Andrew asked.  
  
"Well, why not?" Mrs. Smith said.  
  
"Well, I am the son of Bethany and Robert Parkinson, that usually sends red flags   
up," he replied. Mr. Smith smiled.  
  
"That doesn't bother us. What your parents believed doesn't mean you automatically believe it too. Their choices don't effect your life," Mr. Smith said.  
  
"All right then, why no adopt some other teen?"  
  
"Because you seem to be the most level headed and honest child we've seen today," Mrs. Smith replied.  
  
"What about Pansy and Draco?" Andrew asked slowly.  
  
"What about them?" Mr. Smith asked.  
  
"I don't leave without them." The Smith's faces fell.  
  
"I'm sorry, but we can't afford three children. We both want children, but... we... three children are too expensive. I'm terribly sorry," Mrs. Smith whispered.  
  
"It's ok," Andrew said, uncomfortably. "Usually happens. Either they want Draco or Pansy but never both."  
  
"I hope you don't mind this intrusion," Mr. Smith began, "-but why do you inisist that the three of you stay together? I can understand you and Pansy, but Draco?" Andrew aimlessly traced scratches on the arms of the chair with his finger.  
  
"Well, Draco and Pansy are like twins. They're the only family I've got left. All the others are in Azkaban, or dead." **Plus I don't want any child abuser getting ahold of them, and the magic. They can't have magic. Or atleast, other people can't know...**  
  
"Well, I'm very sorry Andrew. I hope that you and your sister find a good home," Mr. Smith said slowly. The couple said their good-byes and left. Andrewstared at the closed door, before turning, and exiting through the opposite door.  
  
***  
  
  
  
Pain  
  
  
  
"Food time," a blonde woman muttered, swirling the gruel. Her icy blue eyes dulled with pain. Her once beautiful blonde hair, now matted and dirty. Once sweetly pale skin, now a pasty white.  
  
"What a mess I've become, Lucius. If you could see me now... you'd be furious, probably take on the entire Ministry by yourself. I remember those few minutes before the Aurors caught us. I remember them so well..."  
~  
  
"Lucius! They're coming! Oh god, what are we going to do?" Narcissa whispered, tears coming down her cheeks. "Whate are we going to do? I can feel the wards they've placed around the mansion. Do you feel them?! They've got us trapped!" she said hysterically. Lucius closed the distance between them in a few quick strides. Raising a hand, he gently swept the tears from her cheeks. Narcissa glanced up, her eyes full of pain, loss and love. He met her gaze, his blue eyes reflecting the emotions in hers.  
  
"Don't cry, sweet. They won't harm you. I'll protect you. I'll always protect you," he said softly. With another wail, Narcissa launched herself into his arms. He returned the embrace, trying his best to say calm. His eyes traveled frpm his sobbing wife to his son, lying in the bassent besides them. The sound of people bursting through the front door reached them. Narcissa whimpered, Lucius tightened his hold on her.  
  
"Narcissa, I'll always protect you. I swore I would years ago, and I swear it to you now." She raised her head up, nodding silently. He pulled her closer, her head resting on his shoulder. "I love you," he whispered in her ear. She let out a sob and clung to him, her grip increasing.  
  
"I love you, I love you, I love you," she whispered back, over and over again. The doors flew open, the Aurors surrounded them, pulling them apart.  
  
"Stupefy!" one Auror yelled, before it all went black.  
  
~  
  
Narcissa threw her food against the wall with more anger then she had ever felt.  
  
"Those damn Aurors! They ruined my life, Lucius. They ruined it! Ruined it ruined it ruined it!" Collasping against the wall, painful memories pricked at her mind, "The dementors..." They closed in on her cell, feeding off her feelings of despair and anger. "Ahh! God, Lucius, save me! Please! Lucius help me! Luciusss!"  
  
  
  
  
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A/N: That's chapter 2. This is how I envision Lucius and Narcissa's relationship. If I do say so myself, it's a pretty rare way to think of them. Please REVIEW! Please! I shall forever be grateful!   
  



	3. Untitled Chapter 3: Memories

Untitled Chapter 3: Memories  
  
Adoption Day dawned. over the gray, dirty, Magical London Orphanage. Andrew glared at the window through which sun poured through, forcing him awake. **Adoption day, probably the most incredibly boring day. You just sit around all day and look "adorable" as Mistress is so adamant to repeat,** he thought, angrily. Adoption Day was held once every three months, and nine months in exile hadn't helped him perk up to it. **That whole "protection ward" and "evil warding off charm" things are getting vvvveeeeeerrrrrrryyyyyyy old. Though it is oddly satisfying to watch the other twerps attempts at being adorable.** Climbing out of bed, the sheets twisted, causing Andrew to tumble to the ground in a flurry of muffled curses. A few snickers sounded from bunks around the room. Pulling himself up, Andrew glared at each bunk, daring the occupants to laugh again. In a sour mood, Andrew pulled his clean clothes from the trunk sitting at the foot of the bed. Trudging up towards the showers, his thoughts ran in circles. **What if one of the kids get adopted? What if Mistress makes them leave without me? What if their adoptive parents are some kind of abusers. What if... Man, I really have to stop thinking!** Smacking hand to forehead, he turned down the final hall. It took all his will to stifle a gasp. The usually yellowing and aged tile sparkled a brilliant white. The taps reflected the bright mage-lights which hung from the ceiling. The six showers each had new white curtains, all looking freshly ironed and starched.  
  
"Whoa..."  
  
  
***  
  
"Lucius!!!" The name sounded throughout Azkaban, bouncing off the walls, becoming louder. Many of the still sane occupants and even some of the insane ones plugged their fingers in their ears, in hopes of dulling the noises. Robert Parkinson shuddered uncontrollably upon hearing Narcissa's scream, The four had been close like siblings since Hogwarts. Narcissa and Lucius had been inseperatable, even then. Just as he and Bethany had not been. Narcissa's screams softly slid from his ears, and memories replaced them. Memories of how life used to be.  
  
~  
  
"Oh come on you two! I've never known a couple who could snog that much!" Bethany exclaimed, waving her arms around. At sixteen, she still had the deathly thin face. Yet her hair scantly reached her shoulders. Her eyes alive with impatience, the fire of the Slytherin common room adding an eerie glow to them. Robert shrugged noncommittally, knowing any battle concerning Lucius and Narcissa usually ended up in curses being thrown. His short brown hair slid across his forehead, darting into his eyes. Narcissa and Lucius glared at Bethany, angry at her for interrupting them.  
  
"You guys didn't forget about dinner, did you?" Bethany questioned, opting to ignore the glares.  
  
"By the looks of it, they were well into dessert," Robert mumbled.  
  
"Watch it, Robby!" Lucius sneered. Robert just smiled back.  
  
"Well, lets get going. Now that you mention it, I am a bit hungry," Narcissa said, starting for the door.  
  
"But of course, snogging with Lucius burns a hellava lot of calories," Robert whispered to Bethany, who promptly burst into giggles, trying to breath and at the same time follow Narcissa. Lucius grumbled something and pulled Bethany and Robert swiftly along. The three had come up from behind Narcissa. She and Bethany talked about school and fashions, while Lucius and Robert battled over quidittch strategies.  
  
"Sirius get back here!" A female voice screeched. A seventh year with black hair ran full force into Lucius and Robert.  
  
"Oh man, I'm sorry you two! Just need to-" Sirius stopped abruptly, realizing who he had bumped in to. Lucius stood, eyes blazing. Robert helped himself up, staring at Sirius, only vaguely aware that Narcissa and Bethany had come up alongside him. Across from them stood Lily, James, Remus, Sirius.... and Peter. All seventh years, all friends with the little traitor. Robert smirked at Peter, watching the older boy cower. Sirius and Lucius glared at each other, an unspoken hatred. Though only a fifth year, Lucius had over half the school terrified of his name. On the other hands, the other half simply hero worshipped the seventh years before them. Without any words being spoken, Lucius turned, walking swiftly down the corridor to the Great Hall. Robert sneered before turning to do the same. Once clear of the seventh years, Robert grinned to himself. Bethany noticed, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"What are you so happy about?" she questioned. Lucius and Narcissa turned, interest piqued.  
  
"The fact that little Petegrew is going to kill off his little friends has this effect on me," he replied. The other three shared his grin.  
  
"It won't be long before the Master trusts us. Then Petegrew's little edge will mean nothing. We four will be right besides the Master. Forever," Bethany exclaimed, zealously. They all nodded, smiling.  
  
~  
  
"Why can't life be like it was supposed to be?" Robert questioned the wall, before taking his head in his hands. Narcissa's screams ringing in his ears.  
  
***  
  
After getting over the shock of the new bathroom long enough to take a shower, Andrew walked back towards his dormitory, bare feet slapping against the cold tiles. **Who'da thought that they'd actually clean the washroom... It's a good thing that they did to, whoever it was.**  
  
"Children, please report to the Common Room now!" The Mistress yelled, her voice amplified with magic. Andrew skipped up the stairs to his dorm, quickly retrieving his book. Trudging back to the common room, he slipped into his usual corner, unoccupied as always. As the Mistress droned on about being "adorable", he flipped to the page he left off on. Words graced the page, pulling him into the scene. The rest of the world disappeared. And for that moment, he was free of worry.  
  
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A/N: Well, this is kind of a filler chapter, I wanted to show how the Death Eaters got along with each other in school.   
  
*Coming up eventually*  
-More flashbacks (I love these things!)  
-Adoption (sooner or later)  
-Crabbe, Goyle, and the other Slytherins  
-The Weaslys  
  
  



	4. Untitled Chapter 4: Adoption

Untitled Chapter 4: Adoption  
  
'Aqua skies, speckled with silver clouds. Turquoise oceans, quartz beaches. Lavender and violets blooming in the golden sun. Delphinium and roses, flowing alongside. Rocks of jade and coral decorate the sea board. Peaches and oranges hung from trees, waiting to be picked. Crystalline water genteelly slips between the banks of grass and wheat. Tranquil environment, free of brick, nickel, and copper. Ivory leaves conceal melons of different shapes and sizes. Ebony night is falling now, falling upon the silent island. Dreams of the nightmare to come haunted no one. Not a si-'  
  
"Andrew pay attention!" Mistress snapped. Mumbling an intelligible reply, Andrew placed his book down. "Now then, the first families will be arriving in about an hour. I want everyone to be clean. And remember to smile. Can you do that, Andrew?" she questioned hautily.  
  
"Of course, majesty. My parents taught me more than manners," he replied sharply. Mistress bristled, storming out of the room. Whispers spread throughout the room. sighing, Andrew slid out of his corner, walking towards his dorm. A hand caught his arm, halting his departure.  
  
"You Andrew Parkinson?" the boy, no older then ten, asked.  
  
"Yeah, whatever," he replied, wrenching his arm free.  
  
"Wait a minute!" the boy cried. Andrew stopped, the boy came up alongside him.  
  
"My name is Patrick. Patrick Nott. 'Corrding to my mom, you're my cousin, right? Your mom was my dad's sister?" At Andrew's nod, he continued. "Look, what you don't know is that my family was murdered by Death Eaters on the run. Your mum probably never told you, but my father and mum weren't Death Eaters."  
  
"And where, exactly, is this going?"  
  
"My mum was a muggle. Her sister found out about magic when mum married my father. She's going to adopt me. She'd probably adopt you and your sister, too," Patrick explained slowly, hoping Andrew was interested. Andrew faced him, interest in his brown eyes.  
  
"What about Draco?" he questioned warily.  
  
"I'm sure that she'd love to adopt him too! She loves children, she's already got three, she always said she wanted a large family," Patrick said quickly.   
  
"And why exactly are you offering me this?" Andrew asked, a new suspicion rising in him.  
  
"Um, well... I'm starting Hogwarts next year and I don't know any wizards and I thought maybe you'd-" he was cut off by a wave of Andrew's hand.  
  
"All right then, But Draco and Pansy come or I don't go."  
  
"Ok! Well, Aunt Gemma will probably adopt them to, maybe even a few other kids, you never know." Andrew nodded to himself, confirming everything within himself.  
  
"All right then. Your aunt adopts the lot of us, I show you the ropes at Hogwarts. Deal. You best act adorably, else Mistress will go bitch on ya," Andrew said with a laugh. He continued up the stairs to his dormitory, intent on finishing his book, or at least that first chapter. Climbing on to his bed, Andrew leaned against the wall, sunlight pouring in from the open windows, slipping across the page. He mentally thanked the sunlight he had cursed not an hour ago.  
  
  
***  
  
  
"Aw Mum! Do I have to go with you??" a boy with short brown hair whined. He'd made puppy dog eyes, faked sick, pleaded, even tried to bribe his way our of going to the orphanage. His mother sighed, pulling her shoulder length brown hair into a loose bun. Giving herself a last look over in her mirror, she turned to face her son. Hands on hips, she stared at her oldest son. At 13, he was already 5'6", same height as her.  
  
"Jonathan. you are going. Patrick is your cousin. Besides, I've been waiting to adopt that poor Andrew Parkinson and his sister. Can you imagine? They are relations," she said. "Come along now." Jonathan's protests and wails could be heard throughout the house, down the stairs, in the car, and up the steps of the London Magical Orphanage.  
  
"Hush now, Jonny. We're here to get your cousin. If I remember right, you two were good friends." Gemma smiled as her son huffed and crossed his arms. Pushing the door open, many children glanced at her, through most already in conversation with adults. A woman with gray hair, worn in a braid, greeted them.  
  
"Why thank you for stopping by! I am Madam Anna, mistress of this orphanage. What kind of child are you interested in adopting?" The woman asked, a large grin covering her face.  
  
"Actually, I am looking for my nephew, Patrick Nott," Gemma said, returning the Mistress' smile with one of her own.  
  
"Mr. Nott, yes, I do believe he is up in the Boy's Dormitory. Follow me." The Mistress led them down many corridors and up many flights of stairs. Jonathan surpresed a groan as they turned down a hall with doors on either side. The Mistress stopped before a door with a sign on it that read "Boy's 10-14". Opening it, she signaled for Jonathan and Gemma to go in.  
  
"Aunt Gemma!" a boy cried. A small boy, barely five feet tall, ran up to her, hugging her round the waist.  
  
"Hello Patrick. It's good to see you," Aunt Gemma said, a small smile on her face as she returned the hug.  
  
"Well, I'll leave you three alone," the Mistress said. Casting one last glance around the room, her eyes narrowed on a boy sitting on a bed, sunlight falling on him. "Andrew! Come with me," she called. The boy glanced up and scowled at her.  
  
"Fine you old bat! Why can't you just leave me in peace like everyone else?" he snapped. The boy shut his book, placed it in his trunk, and walked over to the Mistress.  
  
"Whatever will I do with you, boy?" she asked herself.  
  
"Feed me to your cats?" he suggested innocently. Fury twisted the woman's face, she grabbed his hand and let him out of the room and took him down the hall.  
  
"Why I never! Such an insolent child. Move along!" she ordered, pulling on his arm.  
  
"Ahh! Child abuse! Child abuse!" he cried in mock terror. Jonathan snickered. Patrick smiled.  
  
"That woman is rather odd, though that boy was a bit rude," Gemma commented.  
  
"He's very nice, really. Mistress doesn't like him though, his mother killed her son, when Andrew was about four. Mistress is convinced he's evil," Patrick said quietly.  
  
"That was Andrew Parkinson?" Jonathan asked, excitement is his voice.  
  
"Yup."  
  
"Whoa, I thought he'd be pale, and have dark hair, and look, well, freaky," Jonathan said. Gemma painfully whacked his head.  
  
"Well, now you know better," Gemma said, smiling. "My boy, there may be hope for you yet. Now, let's go to the nursery, I want to see the toddlers."  
  
"But Mum!" Jonathan began.  
  
"No buts. I really want a few more children... you know that," Gemma interrupted, a small frown appearing on her face. "How do we get to the nursery?"  
  
  
***  
  
  
Andrew sputtered indignantly as the Mistress handed him a mop and bucket.  
  
"Since you seem to enjoy being a little terror, you get to clean the bathroom," she said, her voice stern.  
  
"Why you-! And I'm supposed to be Satan's child! That damnable map can just go right back where it came from!" Andrew spat.  
  
"I knew you were no good! To high and mightly for chores! Well, I'd expect it from a boy like you! Your bitch of a mother probably sheltered you from normal things. Probably gave you the bones of her victims. So how many little pets did the bitch and your simpering father have? 10, maybe 20 little whores? What about the young one, Pansy?" Mistress hissed. Angrily, Andrew shoved her roughly, a low growl in his throat.  
  
"Don't talk about my family like that," he spat, fists clenched in anger. Pulling herself up, the Mistress glared at him, an oddly evil smile tugging on her lips.  
  
"Your family? What about everyone else's? Hm? Well what about my son? Your mother killed for fun, she found it positively hilarious. Your father helped her along, step by step. I can see how much you all meant to each other! I'm so sorry you're little sister won't remember what saints they were," the Mistress growled, anger twisting her face. Neither noticed the three dumbfounded faces in the doorway. "What about little Draco? His parents were worse than yours! Can't you see how he's tying you down? No one wants him. He's evil to the core. You, you're just nasty, but he's pure darkness. Can't you see how his darkness is holding you back? Ah, that's right, you can't see that. Your to damned stupid," she continued, voice flitting from sarcasm and back.  
  
"Just because your precious little worlds was based around someone you just let die, doesn't mean the rest of us should suffer," Andrew whispered. He smirked as the Mistress' eyes widened. "All of the papers talked about how you threw your son in front of you when the Death Eaters attacked. How you sacrificed a life that wasn't yours just to save your own sorry ass. Booted you out of the Ministry, they did. Now look at the great Cynthia Smliter, running an orphanage, which happens to house three children whom you happen to hate. Ah, going from high society to nothing. And you dare to call me a fail-" The Mistress' hand swiftly smacked Andrew clear across the face. The startled boy fell to the ground as the woman raised her fist again.  
  
"Enough!" A voice bellowed. Both Andrew and the Mistress turned their heads, In the doorway stood Gemma, hands on her hips, brown eyes sharp with anger, brown-gray hair falling out of it's loose bun. "Madam, would you kindly step away from that boy, and escort me to where his sister and brother are housed. Now."   
  
Stiffly, the Mistress walked through the door, eyes darted anxiously at Gemma and her son. Andrew walked towards the door, shaking slightly. Gemma laid a hand on his shoulder. He looked at her, she smiled gently.   
  
"Come love, it's time to go home."  
  
  
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A/N: I hope someone enjoyed Ch. 4. The beginning text, I wrote that. And yes, it does impact the plot. Please, please, please READ AND REVIEW. I need to know what you people want!  
  



	5. Untitled Chapter 5: Red

Untitled Chapter 5: Red  
  
By Altra  
  
  
Hollow eyes peered bleakly through the dark night. The woman turned, gathering her volumnous skirts in her hands. Darkness was behind her, yet footsteps rang out. A glowing, silver mirror appeared before her. Beautiful silk blonde hair was pulled into a decorative knot at the nape of her neck. Sugar pale complexion stared back at her, confusion and terror evident in the frozen blue eyes.  
  
Blood red, high collared velvet dress, covered the numerous petticoats. the laced bodice set her figure, which the skirt distorted below the waist. An overly large ruby pendant hung about her neck, sparkling under the invisible light.  
  
Pale fingers tapped against the cold glass. Sweaty palms pulled across the smooth surface, a squelching sound resounding.  
  
A gentle wind blew across her pale face, as she slowly drifted upon the breeze, torn apart, seen only as dust to her minds eye.  
  
On a whim, her body reassembled, a door of sturdy oak stood before her. Intricate flowers carved into the deep wood. Hesitantly, she slid her un-scarred hand along the handle, pulling the door open.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Lily sighed to herself, readjusting her grip and the small cardboard box she carried. The cardboard had the supple wrinkles gained after many years of use. she skillfully dodged the rogue occupants of the tiny antique store. An elderly couple would glance through old copies of the Prophet, chat about old broomstick designs, haggle over amulet prices.  
  
Lily smiled, despite the seriousness of the price debate. Ambling up to the counter, she tapped her wand against a small lamp, beads hanging from the edges. A young woman with sandy blonde hair pushed the curtain, separating the front of the store from the back, open. Her hair was put up in a messy clip, thick glasses almost falling off her nose, wand tucked behind her ear. Her lavender robes were a bit gray from too many washings.  
  
"How may I help you Miss...?" the young woman began, sitting upon a stool behind the wooden counter.  
  
"Lily. Lily Potter. Well, I have a few items I'd like to sell, if you're interested of course." The blonde's eyes widened upon hearing her name. Inwardly, Lily chuckled, quite use to the reaction.  
  
"R-really? Oh, um, beg pardon. It's just-" the woman flushed a deep crimson. "Nevermind. What do you have?"  
  
Lily placed the box on the counter, pulling three items from inside, placing them behind the box, out of clear view of the woman. However, she decided against it, placing one in front of the woman.  
  
"This one, the statue, I got it from an aunt." The porcelain statue was of an angel, hands extended. The angel's hair was swept back by an invisible wind, eternal forgiveness etched upon the soft face. Beautiful white robes billowed regally, catching the light. Gentle magic seemed to illuminate the six-inch porcelain doll. The young lady hesitantly stroked the angle's hair.  
  
"My dear lord. What a beautiful sculpture... it seems to breath life. Why on earth do you want to sell this?" she asked incredulously.  
  
"I got a feeling. My aunt told me that the statue would go to those who need it. It seems to give the owner a bit of a push in the right direction," Lily replied, brushing a strand of red hair from her face.  
  
"How-how much do you want for it?" the clerk asked.  
  
"Well, I guess a galleon, Miss- oh dear, there go my manners. What is your name?" Lily asked, laughing softly.  
  
"Jesta. But really, you must want more than a galleon! I've never seen anything as intricate. Not even at Hogwarts!"  
  
"Really, I don't want more than a galleon for it. I never really believed that I owned it anyway. Besides, the galleon is going towards a donation to St. Mungo's my husband and I are putting together."  
  
"Oh-okay. A galleon it is then," Jesta said, pulling a galleon from the small register on the counter, handing it to Lily. Lily pocketed the coin, pulling the second item into clear view. Lily was most surprised when the woman gasped.  
  
A ruby, imbedded on silver, glittered as light hit the many faucets. Crimson depths seemed unreal to the sliver-dollar size stone. Inlaid designs twisted about the gem, sweeping into spirals. Black silk was sewn to the sides of the silver backdrop, creating a sort of choker. Perfect fire flickered dimly within the ruby.  
  
"That's just-beautiful," Jesta whispered.  
  
"Well, the ruby is magically created. It was keyed to a certain person, but whoever it was must have died recently. The stone only flickers once and a while," Lily said, confusion on her face. Couldn't this woman tell that the jewel was false?  
  
"Keyed to a person, you say? Are there any protection spells on the piece? Any spells that the stone reacts to?" Jesta questioned, holding her hand to keep from touching the stone.   
  
"Not that I know of."  
  
Jesta let out the breath she had been holding. She picked up the ruby choker, feeling the cool silver against her clammy palms. Jesta turned the stone about, searching for any visible flaws. Nodding to herself, Jesta placed the choker down on the table, grinning at Lily.  
  
"How much?"  
  
"Um... five galleons?"  
  
"Deal," Jesta said, smiling at the ruby, though Lily couldn't comprehend why. Once again the woman pulled coins of gold from the register, handing them to Lily, who pocketed the money.  
  
Lily pulled the final item into view, smiling as Jesta squealed behind the counter.  
  
"How adorable!" the woman squeaked. A small figurine was seated upon a broomstick. The tiny broomstick hovered a few inches above the ground, darting this way and that after a tiny ball. The figure, which had dark hair, which was currently being swept in the wind rushing by its' head. It wore ancient, maroon Quidditch robes, a golden lion embroidered on the back. The tiny man stopped his flight for a moment, pausing to catch his breath, before speeding after what presumably was a Snitch.  
  
"It is cute, isn't it? Mini-Gryfindor Quidditch player from, oh gods, over a hundred years ago? Anyway, the little guy comes with a Snitch, Quaffle, Bludger, and a bat. I suppose it used to be part of a set, but I have yet to find it," Lily said, smiling brightly at the determined guy.  
  
"What a little sweetie! We already have two Ravenclaw players and an entire Hufflepuff set. We'll have a mini Hogwarts one of these days!" The two women laughed, earning confused looks from the mini Seeker.  
  
"Well, I'll pay you ten Sickles for it," Jesta said between giggles.  
  
"Deal!" Lily said, patting the small Quidditch player on the head, much to his chagrin.  
  
After receiving her money,, and biding goodbye to Jesta and the tiny player (who bowed), Lily walked out of the store smiling at the midday sun.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Shaking, Andrew followed the three people soon to be his family. His thoughts ran in circles, only to overlap and intertwine into fine squiggles. His cheek ached dully from the Mistress' slap, which was actually quite powerful. Clips of conversation sounded in his skull, making it quite impossible to forget the recent event.  
  
"Your bitch of a mother... Mother killed for fun... simpering Father followed her every step of the way... little Draco... no one wants him... holding you back... to damned stupid..."  
  
Still shaking, Andrew glanced up as an arm laid across his shoulders, pulling him close. *That woman... Aunt Gemma, that's what Patrick called her.*  
  
The woman smiled sadly at him, as though he had been born her son. Andrew hurriedly glanced back towards the ground. *She's saved me in more ways then one... though I'm probably just a charity case to her.* For what seemed like an eternity, the five people walked down each corridor, and try as he might, the glaring eyes did not go unnoticed by Andrew.  
  
The Mistress opened the door to her office, motioning for them to enter. Andrew felt Gemma pull him closer to her as they entered, though just only did he notice.  
  
"Nicholas, fetch the nurses, tell them to bring Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. Now," the Mistress ordered, her voice more commanding then ever. Terrified, the young boy bolted down the corridor while the Mistress walked into her office, closing the door. Taking a seat behind the rather worn mahogany desk. Gemma pulled Andrew into a rickety chair that stood besides the crusty wall. Patrick sat next to him, casting curious looks all the while. Gemma and Jonathan sat directly before the Mistress' desk.  
  
The Mistress herself was busy pulling papers from the many drawers in the desk. The only objects that cluttered her desk were the papers, a quill, and a pitcher of water, two cups adjacent to it.  
  
"All right Mrs.- Mrs.- Mrs. whoever you are, just sign here and Mr. Nott is free to leave..." the Mistress grumbled, indicating to a dotted line. The heavy door was thrown open, revealing a winded Nicholas. Beckoning to a person behind him, Nicholas backed out of the doorway, entering the Mistress' office. A disgruntled woman entered, a bundle of blankets in the crook of each arm. The woman had to stoop once in the room, her broad figure blocking out the light from the open doorway. Andrew abruptly stood, taking a bundle for the nurse's arm.  
  
"Oh honestly, they're two years old already! Can't you people let them walk? Seriously, and you thought _my_ mother pampered me," he said, exasperated. Andrew unwrapped the blankets, tossing them aside in a crumpled heap. Placing the baby on the floor, he smiled proudly as Pansy stretched.  
  
"An'ew!" she exclaimed. The white frock she wore had no sleeve, but large daises were pinned over the thick straps. Pansy hugged her brother round the legs, laughing.  
  
"Hey Pans," he knelt down so they were eye to eye. "Pans, I'd like you to meet Aunt Gemma," he said, gently turning her towards Gemma, who was smiling broadly at them.   
  
"Hi Aun'ie Gemmy," Pansy said with a little wave. Andrew stood, making his way towards the nurse, taking Draco from her. Draco was already attacking the blanket in an attempt to be free of it. Patrick got out of his chair, helping Draco get free from the blankets while Andrew tried to keep him from falling. Once free, Andrew placed the toddler on the ground. Draco smiled, latching himself onto Andrew's leg.  
  
"Boy, give me Draco," the Mistress commanded. Andrew glared at her, kneeling besides Draco.  
  
"How about 'I don't think so, why don't you go to hell'? That work?" he snapped, straightening Draco's overalls.  
  
"I do believe that the boy is to come with me?" Gemma said, her soft voice demanding attention. The Mistress smirked, a noise of disagreement in her throat.  
  
"This one stays. I daresay you can't afford him, what with how high maintainence those two are," she said, motioning towards Pansy and her brother.  
  
"I can afford him fine, thank you very much. I appreciate you concern," Gemma said, though nothing in her tone even suggested appreciation. Mistress stiffened, eyes flashing dangerously.  
  
"Fine. Adopt the whole lot of them. But I warn you now- their evil will catch up with you-just you watch!" she spat. Gemma deftly signed the paper for Patrick.  
  
"Where else do I sign?" Mistress searched through the many papers on her desk, pointing to the areas where Gemma was to sign.  
  
As the last flourish slid across the thing parchment, the children stood, Pansy on Andrew's hip, Draco holding his hand. Glancing at the final paper, Andrew shuddered a bit. *Red ink...*, he thought. *Red ink...*  
  
Casting a final glare towards the Mistress, Andrew followed Patrick from the room. He couldn't help but smile as Gemma laid a hand upon his shoulder and led the lot of them from the orphanage.  
  
'Not a single soul trembled with fright. Pelting rain rattled golden petals, cascading down perpetual cliffs. And still, not a single soul stirred, as the earth moaned for freedom; freedom from tainted oceans. Freedom from life.'  
  
  
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A/N: The words in *asteriks* are thoughts. In Chapter Six, the dream at the beginning is concluded, the Weaslys make an appearance, and the imprisoned Death Eaters are once again visited by memories.  
  
  
  



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